


Gateways: Maelstrom

by DarthDakka



Series: Gateways [1]
Category: Babylon 5, Babylon 5 & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005), Torchwood
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crossover, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-03
Updated: 2013-05-03
Packaged: 2017-12-10 05:59:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/782612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarthDakka/pseuds/DarthDakka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>B5 AU/DW Season 4 Fate and chaos are generous, if fickle creatures. Echoes of the past, concealed consequences of one's actions and oneself- these are the gifts they offer. It is the nature of reality that the brightest light casts the darkest shadow. First book in the Gateways series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gateways: Maelstrom

**Disclaimer:** This is a Fan-fic written for fun, not profit. “Doctor Who”, “TARDIS” and “Torchwood” are the property of the BBC. Babylon 5 is the property of Time Warner Entertainment Co., LP.

    -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Prologue: Down the Rabbit Hole**

**Part 1: Nexuses**

**\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

“You just don't get it, do you? An army's nothing. 'Cos those ordinary people - they're the key. The most ordinary person could change the world.”  
- **The Tenth Doctor** , _The Age of Steel_

 

"The avalanche has already started. It is too late for the pebbles to vote."

\- **Kosh Naranek** , _Babylon 5: Believers_

**< *>**

**March 4th, 2005**

Rose Tyler had been having a pretty normal day. Woke up. Bolted down a bowl of cereal for breakfast. Had a shower. Got dressed. Jumped on the bus to work. Spent hours of putting up with customers going on about stupid things (The hanger on this top claimed it was a size 6 but the tag clearly said it was an 8. So they blamed _her_ for it). Crossed the street to have a relatively quick lunch with Mickey. Came back to deal with more pestering from the customers and managers. Heard that blessed announcement that the store was closing in five minutes. 

And then her day had gone weird. 

Being threatened by shop dummies in the store basement was a new experience for Rose. Having a stranger grab her hand and telling her to run was a new experience. Watching said stranger pull the arm off a dummy as it tried to attack was a new experience. Having that stranger jokingly tell her that one of her co-workers was dead was a new experience. 

“That's just not funny, that's sick!”

Rose had gotten really tired of new experiences. 

“Hold on!” the stranger yelled, ignoring her. He grabbed her by the shoulders and forcefully pushed her to the side. He pulled something silver and tube-shaped from his leather coat and pointed it at the lift controls."Mind your eyes.” 

There was a buzzing sound and a glow of blue light. Rose gave a yelp of surprise as a spray of sparks shot from the silver panel on the wall.

“I've had enough of this now!” she shouted at his back as he hurried off, putting the silver whatever-it-was away.

She followed him down the back hallway, dodging around a rack of clothing. “Who are you, then? Who's that lot down there?”

The man hurried on, still ignoring her. 

“I said, who are they?” Rose demanded, her voice angry.

 “They're made of plastic. Living plastic creatures.” The stranger explained, bounding up a small stairway. Rose followed, bewildered and wondering if he was joking around. He _had_ to be, right? 

“They’re being controlled by a relay device in the roof. Which would be a great big problem if I didn't have this.” 

With that he yanked out a box-shaped mess of wires and electronic parts from his coat pocket. If it was supposed to be a bomb, it looked like it came out of a cartoon. It was even _beeping_. “So!” the stranger said, opening a fire exit door for her, his voice growing scornful, “I'm going to go upstairs and blow it up, and I might well die in the process. But don't worry about me, no. Go home, go on! Go and have your lovely beans on toast." Rose couldn’t help but stare at him in bewilderment and a bit of fear while he gently shepherded her through the door. The sound of traffic echoed down the alley that ran behind Hendricks. 

 “Don't tell anyone about this, because if you do, you'll get them killed,” the stranger finished.

With that the door shut. Rose turned away, not sure what to think at all. A second later and the door clicked open once more. She turned back and found herself face to face with the stranger again.

“I'm the Doctor, by the way, what's your name?” he asked.

“Rose.” She replied automatically, dazed.

“Nice to meet you, Rose.” said the Doctor. Holding up the… thing? bomb? whatever-it-was? in one hand, he advised, “Run for your life!” 

**< *>**

Meanwhile, in another universe, the faint snarling rumble of an engine grew louder. With a lurch, the bus hit another bump. Justin Chapman didn’t blink as he was jostled in his uncomfortable plastic seat. It hadn’t been the first time this had happened since they left the long, empty highway between the town of Lee’s Providence and the college. And, he reflected, it certainly wouldn’t be the last.

Outside the windows, the vague glow growing on the horizon made the shadows advance down from the mountains. The peaks turned from black to blue, growing more visible. Here and there he could see the lights of houses on the outskirts of town and the twin specks of headlights on the distant freeway.   And trees. Everywhere, trees as far as the eye could see. Justin thought he’d probably never seen so many bloody trees in his life before moving here.

The bus continued forward, picking up speed and bouncing over more bumps as it approached the town. This time, the twenty-three year old almost lost his balance in the bench-like chair. He gripped the front with one hand, holding on to his book with the other. It was small and, in spite of the clear plastic jacket put there to protect it, the plain brown cover was worn with age. Fortunately, the bus had plenty of interior lights, so he could read easily if he wanted to.

As the ride smoothed out and the babble of the passengers’ voices again rose, Justin went back to reading - or appeared to. Actually, he barely noticed the words on the page as he listened to the conversations around him. 

“I’m telling you, he’d be the better choice of linebacker…”

 “…that time when…”

"It's weird how, in some movies, the villain is a totally normal guy…except for that he’s got an evil plot. Kinda makes you paranoid, right? Anyone could be evil..."

“Shoulda studied more…”

“You’ve said that for the last two tests…ever gonna do it?”

Most of it was just gossip, rumors or discussions…small talk. All and all, not exactly interesting. Still, knowledge was power.  And enough ‘useless knowledge’ often yielded the unexpected. 

“They’d have no choice but to attack them head-on. A full broadside from a Star Destroyer…”

Justin couldn’t help but shake his head a little at that comment. Space did _not_ work in just two dimensions.

Eyes briefly flickered over the words at the top of the page, the first sentence. He’d read the book so many times over the years that he knew almost by memory what the rest would be. 

_All warfare is based on deception. Hence, when we are able to attack, we must seem unable; when using our forces, we must appear inactive; when we are near, we must make the enemy believe we are far away; when far away, we must make him believe we are near._

Of course, having something memorized didn’t necessarily mean that you understood it. A fact that several of his classmates appeared to have trouble grasping. 

But no, that wasn’t quite fair, not to mention right. His grades weren’t perfect either, so he didn’t have too much room to talk. Justin rubbed his eyes, tired. Grades seemed so childish now, so useless in the face of the world and what had happened.

“Hey, what ya reading?” someone said. Justin looked up, surprised at the intrusion. It was one of the many students at the uni he hadn't bothered to get acquainted with. The fair-haired boy was giving the book a curious look. 

“ _The Art of War_.” Justin replied. He tilted his head slightly, a bit puzzled as to why a random person that he’d never met was trying to talk to him. 

“Oh neat. What’s it about?”  

Justin tried not to show his annoyance and wondered for a moment if this guy was just trying to mess with him. It wasn’t as if the title wasn’t a rather large giveaway. No, he decided. The question probably came from honest ignorance.

 “It’s an ancient Chinese military essay that’s credited to Sun Tzu. And it’s probably one of the oldest and most successful books on military strategy in the world. It teaches more a way of thinking then exact plans.”

"But that was written back when people were fighting with bows and arrows. How could that still be useful, especially after...?" was the confused reply.

Justin smirked slightly. 

 “Sun Tzu emphasized the importance of positioning in the face of changing conditions. And that planning, in the sense of having an established list, doesn’t work because in a changing environment competing plans collide, creating unexpected situations. Both are parts of warfare that have never truly changed."

“Oh. Neat.”

 “Maybe you’d like to read it when I’m done with it?” He’d never had much patience for people who were…well a bit daft, but perhaps it was time to make an exception or two. 

The other boy hesitated and Justin watched his face, wondering why he was weighing his words. Sake of politeness perhaps? 

He felt the hum of the engine change through his seat.

“I don’t know…you sure you want to lend me your book?”

Justin bit back ‘Of course not. Why did you think I told you I would?’, and said “Actually it’s the library’s. I lost my copy before I moved here.” That lost book had been one of the few items Justin had growing up that belonged to his father.

As the bus bumped over a pothole, Justin saw the other boy’s eyes widen for an instant as he made the possible connection. He could almost see the equation of _British accent_ , plus _losing personal belongings_ , plus _moving_ forming in his head.

 _Took you long enough_ , he thought, swearing a little inside. He really didn’t want anyone’s pity. It was a bit irritating, honestly. Mostly Justin refused to be defined by what had happened at the fall of London. It’s not as if he was that unique among the hundreds of people who’d survived the chaos.

 _Besides surviving and getting out alive after the worst of it happened._ Justin thought with a pang. He let the thought simmer and then let it go.

He never was good at lying to himself.

The other boy did something that surprised him a bit. He simply shrugged and said "Maybe. I'll think about reading it."

The engine made an angry, metallic screech as the bus slowly decelerated. After a moment’s uncertainty the bus came to a halt. There was a loud hiss, followed by the dull mechanical whir of the bus door folding back, the engine still steadily running, spilling billowing clouds of exhaust into the chilly morning air. As the handful of backpack-toting students dutifully began leaving the rumbling vehicle, Justin stood up, slipped on his backpack and stepped out into the aisle with them. From somewhere towards the front of the bus, the sound of music drifted from the speakers. He thought the beat sounded familiar. 

_Come you masters of war_

_You that build all the guns_

_You that build the death planes_

_You that build all the bombs…_

  
With a flicker of annoyance Justin recognized the song: Bob Dylan’s Masters of War. Sung by the group Staple Singers, if Justin remembered correctly. Given how often it was played, he absently wondered if the people at the radio station just _really_ liked that song. 

_…You that never done nothin'_

_But build to destroy_

_You play with my world_

_Like it's your little toy_

_You put a gun in my hand_

_And you hide from my eyes_

_And you turn and run farther_

_When the fast bullets fly._

  
Since it was near the center of town, the houses on this street were generally older. Several of them looked like they dated back to the American Revolutionary War, when Lee’s Providence had been founded.

Justin stepped out onto the brick pavement. As the bus pulled away from the street corner and the other students each went their separate ways, he looked about cautiously.  Even though the curfew should have ended an hour ago, cops on occasion had been overzealous. His mind sluggishly recalled that the curfew had been lifted almost three days ago. 

 Justin started home.  As he turned to cross the street, there was a splash and he awkwardly jerked his foot back. Now bit more awake, Justin looked down at the puddle, trying to step around it.  His brown-hazel eyes stared back at him. He caught sight of the jagged scrap-like scar along the side of his left jaw and Justin’s hand came up to briefly touch it. He still felt a bit taken aback by the sight of it.

Seeing motion in the water, he looked up. Justin saw a dot of light in the sky shooting overhead in an arc. Seconds later it disappeared into the west. Probably one of the new rocket planes, he thought to himself. Flying to some base in the Midwest, filled with posh scientists and government officials.

Suspended high in the sky, the blanket of stars twinkled mischievously in all their fading glory. Justin watched them, however, not with wonder but a hint of suspicion. He paused only a few seconds before returning to what passed for a leisurely pace, his one shoe squishing with every step. 

For almost two months he’d been living here, at Lee’s Providence, with his mum and fifteen year-old sister. It hadn't been simple. Moving here, adjusting. But, he reflected, chaos and conflict was an inevitable and natural part of life. Despite being aware of that, it’d taken him a long time to fully comprehend it.

Leaving the road, he stepped into a hard-packed dirt alleyway, a shortcut. Broken shards of glass bottles crunched under his shoes in the darkness. The sound of an unfamiliar woman speaking, almost singing, reached his ears. The voice drifted from one of the houses in front of at the end of the alley. Justin stopped, listening.

“Ways of old to guide and guard, paths to bring and send, circles both in Light and Dark, from starting until end.”

For a moment Justin strained his ears, listening, more out of curiosity's sake for anything else. Hearing nothing more, he shrugged and walked on. It’d probably just been a radio or som-

Without warning the darkened street rippled and distorted around him. Justin had the briefest sensation of being yanked sideways, of somehow going backwards, yet staying still, and an even briefer one of freefalling. Silvery dots danced in his darkening vision as a bitter cold sliced through him. His bones felt like they would shatter and his skin would burn away. He was struggling, his lungs trying to gasp for air that wasn’t there. Primitive animal panic quickly drowned any attempt at rational thought.

Justin thrashed, tried to yell, but couldn’t.

Slowly, the feeling of solid ground beneath him returned. For a moment Justin merely lay there. He felt drained, emotionally and physically. His vision swam in nauseatingly when he tried to open his eyes. 

“What…the…hell…” he groaned. His mind scrambled for some semblance of memory, of recollection beyond the cold and the dark. Why had it _stopped_? 

Justin had a faint recollection of the darkness closing in and a huge, looming shadow shape. A grinning monstrosity with too many eyes. An unfamiliar voice that Justin seemed to recall speaking, saying, “-Then my friend… we have a deal.-”. Followed by a too-hot sensation, like being burned from the inside.

Had he indeed seen it or was it just a delusion of his dying mind?

Sheer force of will pushed him back onto unsteady feet, and he opened his eyes. Instantly, Justin froze. The sound of alien klaxons replaced the ringing in his ears.

“Oh shite.”

**< *>**

From her position in the darkness, a woman's golden eyes rested on where Justin Chapman had been standing. She let out a long slow breath, one that she hadn't entirely realized she'd been holding. The last nagging uncertainly was gone, replaced with almost giddy happiness. There was always a danger crossing timelines- for her, even more so now.

What she'd done would unleash merry hell in her own universe, but at least it would make things _interesting_. But from where she stood, it already had. With that she walked away, disappearing in a swirl of vortex light, her reason for being there complete.


End file.
